


Dark Paradise

by SkatingDJ



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Five Stages of Grief, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, M/M, Not for the faint of heart, Self-Harm, Song Lyrics, Suicide, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, actually, i have crippling depression, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:56:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12396078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkatingDJ/pseuds/SkatingDJ
Summary: If Baz and Penelope didn't make it in time... /AU/ (a sad one-shot)





	Dark Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Please head to the tags. I own nothing. Song lyrics from Lana Del Rey's "Dark Paradise."  
> Thanks for reading.  
> Enjoy:)

**SIMON**

 

“Give it to me!” The Mage roared.

_Why couldn't he understand?_

“Your magick, Simon!” He lunged at me.

I was close to passing out. I was too exhausted to fight him off of me. I had collapsed to the ground, my aching sides kissing the unforgiving stone floor. Everything keeping me up was gone. It was as if my bones were non-existent, my body frame nothing more than a sack of meat.

The Mage, down on his knees now, had his hands clasped around the collar of my shirt, violently shaking me and yelling, shrieking in my face. I gazed into his eyes to find no shred of mercy resting in his irises. 

It was madness.

It was insanity.

I cowered away from his presence, but there was nowhere I could go. I couldn't hide.

“I don't have anymore.” I hoarsely spoke, desperate, pleading, calling.

I felt so empty. The raging storm inside my body had finally calmed and would never return.

I suppose the Mage couldn't feel my magick either, but he was in complete denial. “What have you done?”

Horror and rage was etched onto every crevice of his face. His hands went for my throat. Panic washed over my mind, my body reacted.

I tugged at the Mage's wrists, my legs jolted as my upper body jerked upwards. My wings fluttered and batted the Mage, my tail slapping him and attempting to throw him off my body. However, no matter my struggle, I felt the fury of the Mage's unrelenting magick tumbling like a tsunami at me and... it was too much. It paralyzed me. I was a dying bird. It was overwhelming. I couldn't fight him.

“ _Stop, please!”_ I barely choked out, only to loose the last of my breath in those two measly words.

My eyes bulged from the pressure, my neck throbbed as my windpipes were being crushed.

My words had proven no affect on the Mage. He didn't stop. In fact, he gripped my neck tighter, as if it were a sponge.

I gagged and gasped, my skull felt like it was going to explode. I was loosing air too quickly...

My hands – which were wrapped around the Mage's wrists – trembled and weakened. Searing pain consumed my body. Tears leaked from my eyes sockets.

I looked away. _Was this how I was going to die?_

I gave another desperate effort, but to absolutely no avail. My body stopped listening to me.

All thoughts began to slip from my mind. My very essence began deteriorating away, leaving me with just a core. Black spots danced across my vision, dark stains flooded the edges of my eyes.

_The Chosen One, to die at the hands of the Mage after defeating the Humdrum... what a way to go, huh?_

_What will they say?_

My mind was slipping...

I was going to die like this. But no regrets, right? I lived a pretty charmed life... even though I was a fucking tragedy.

_I should have listened to Penny._

_I hope Ebb lives._

_Why did the Mage want my magick so bad?_

_I always wanted to meet my mother and father._

_I have so much more to do..._

_I don't want to die like this._

_I have sour cherry scones to eat, a life to actually live, a family to find, a friend to hug... and a boyfriend to love._

Despite everything, a small smile graced my lips. I guess in the face of death, your life flashing before your eyes is actually not a myth.

_I need to tell Baz that I love him._

A switch went off; my heartbeat finally steadied as the pain suddenly washed away. I couldn't tell if it was because I was finally dying, or the thought of Baz soothed me...

_I need to kiss him a final goodbye._

_Maybe I'll Visit him one day..._

(My body goes limp and my vision blanks out.)

_I love you so much, Baz. There's so much I wanted to do with you._ _Just promise me you'll move on and learn to love again. Never forget me, Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. I'll never forget you, I'll never stop loving you once I cross the Veil. Baz, my darling, I –_

* * *

**PENELOPE**

 

It was chaos.

Baz and I didn't care if we were killing ourselves by using so much magick. We literally flew up the stairs of the tower, calling out Simon's name all the while.

It was when we approached the very top of the stairs did we hear a gruesome howling and screeching through everything else.

If only I could imagine what Baz was thinking.

Without hesitation, I raised my right hand, balled in a fist; my purple ring poised at the door in front of us and loudly declared a **“Open Sesame!”**

Baz and I barged through the door.

We came to an abrupt halt.

It might have been because of all those stairs, sleep-deprivation, dehydration, famish, or my queasiness over the whole situation... but regardless, I puked. The bile was the foulest thing I've ever tasted. My throat scorched with vicious fever. The taste stained my tongue.

“ _Simon!”_ I called out between coughs and sputters. I gasped and hiccuped for breath.

I looked up to see Baz wrestling the Mage to the ground, his vampire fangs out and ready. Their screams echoed in the chamber, both fired with fury.

In my shock, I stumbled over to Simon. I barely noticed that Ebb was dead and pooling in her own blood over on the other side of the room. My hand dove for Simon's swollen and bruised neck; I couldn't feel a pulse. I placed my ring-hand on Simon's neck and thought up every healing incantation I've ever heard of:

“ **As you were!”**

Nothing.

“ **Early to bed, early to rise!”**

Silence.

“ **Get well soon!”**

Cold.

“ **Nonsense!”**

Useless.

“ **Back to start!”**

Motionless.

“ **Flower gleam and glow!”**

Pathetic.

These were only a few, I began casting more spells I knew from the top of my head and ones even I struggled to recall. I tried to create new spells on the fly, taking quotes from books, TV shows or movies that could possibly help.

I was growing faint from firing spells in such quick succession.

Fuck this.

Then, in all my glory, vomit-mouth and all, I proceeded to perform CPR on Simon. Perhaps the putrid taste of my mouth would awaken Simon from his stupor.

_Yes, stupor._

Simon Snow, the Chosen One, my best friend... was _not_ dead.

He _couldn't_ be dead.

“ _Simon, you fucking idiot! Wake up, you bastard! Please! Simon, Simon! Please!”_

Tears finally started to clot my vision.

Three reps, five reps, ten reps, fifteen reps, thirty reps... it wasn't working.

Drastic times called for drastic measures.

I pressed my ring to Simon's chest.

“ **Thunder and lightning!”**

A jolt of pure electricity was ejected into Simon's limp body...

It stayed that way.

I shouted the spell again.

And again.

And again.

I changed the spell.

“ **It's alive!”**

I repeated the same process that revealed to bear the same results, and then again with another spell.

And another.

And another.

And another.

A groan of pain slipped through my lips as a pulsing migraine seared throughout my brain. My fingertips twitched as my weakening magick coursed through my veins.

_No, I can do this–_

“ **Back from the dead!”** I screamed with as much magick and intent as I ever used in my entire life.

Nothing happened. My magick locked in my fingers, still waiting to be released. I had made the spell up on the spot, to be honest. I suppose such a spell could not exist (bringing people back from the dead using a spell is already deemed impossible, but it was well worth a shot).

I tried the last thing I could think of.

“ **I wish upon a star! I wish for Simon to be alive!”**

My ring shattered.

My beloved, purple ring that I've had with me since my first year shattered into a million pieces. The gemstone scattered on the stone floor. The small explosion left a burn mark on my finger.

But... the spell would have just fizzled out if Simon was alive...

So that means...

_I couldn't save Simon Snow._

_We were too late._

_Simon Snow was dead._

Tears dripped from my eyes as I sorrowfully looked up to see Baz and the Mage casting spells and dishing punches at one another. It was a vicious battleground. No, it was more like an animal fight; rabid, aggressive, messy.

All I knew is that the Mage had done this. The Mage must have figured out that Simon was the cause behind this and thought that by killing him, the Humdrum would be gone (where was that childish bastard anyway?)

_But why?_ The Mage and Simon were like father and son, they _loved_ each other... what have driven the Mage to do this?

My confusion led to hatred.

_How could he do this to Simon? Why did he do this to Simon?_

“Baz!” I yelled.

He wasn't listening. He was too busy trying to rip the Mage's neck out or send him up in flames or beat the living shit out of him to give me the time of day. Merlin's beard, Baz was going to kill the Mage first if I didn't do anything.

I picked myself up and threw my arms around Baz and yanked the both of us back as hard as I could. Luckily, I was effective at pulling him off of the Mage. I felt the heat of Baz's rage seep through his skin and snarls that sent pure terror down my spine rumble in the back of his throat.

I blindly shouted into the air, “Your wand, I need your wand!”

Consumed by adrenaline and anger, Baz growled at me ferociously, his teeth piercing from his lips, razor sharp like needles.

My grip on him loosened, I stared at him directly in the eyes, but with a gentle softness. “I need to know the truth.” I also gestured to my right hand that bore no magick ring.

Baz seemed to come to his senses as his teeth began to recede, he pulled out his wand and handed it to me. He had pummeled the Mage just enough so that the man still lay on the ground, writhing in pain.

My stomach boiled with betrayal as I pointed the wand straight at the Mage. He didn't deserve a mercy, we deserved a truth. **“The whole truth, and nothing but the truth!”**

Both men looked at me, astonished by my choice of words. Perhaps Baz didn't think I'd have it in me to do something so bold, and the Mage was taken aback in what appeared to be fear. Quite frankly, I didn't give a shit.

“ **Why did you kill Simon?”** I demanded, my voice sharper than Baz's teeth.

I could sense the Mage resisting the spell. He was doing a fine job at it. I feared in wouldn't be enough. But thank the moon, it seemed that the Mage had spent too much magick fighting already and caved into the spell. Besides, he was facing the three– the _two_ most powerful mages in the school, we would get it out of him eventually.

“The prophecy, it was always meant to be!” The Mage forced out, a maniacal laughter then bubbling from his bleeding mouth. “My _son_... Simon Snow Salisbury is more powerful than the world could have ever imagined!”

My stomach dropped. I had to have heard that wrong.

“ _Excuse?”_ I spat out in a hiss.

The Mage sucked in a breath and repeated, “Simon Snow _Salisbury_ is my _son!”_

_Simon... was the Mage's son?_

I cast a skittish glance towards Baz. His Adam's apple bobbed, as if he were physically swallowing that bought of information. “Your _son?”_ He questioned unbelievably, choking out the last part in a hushed voice, cocking his head.

“Indeed!” The Mage cackled with bright eyes. However, not bright in the way that signaled any sort of positive emotion, it was a sick bright. A glossy, fierce bright. “Lucy and I, we did it!” He inhaled scratchily, “Of course, it killed her. It was too much magick for her to handle, but I did what I set out to do... the prophecy came true because of _me_!”

“You. _Killed_. Your. Own. Son... you _monster_!” Baz shook, trying to sound threatening through his tears. The sheer disgust and disbelief of what he was hearing was palpable.

“I made sure of it,” the Mage muttered darkly, a wry grin resting upon his hideous face. At this point, his eyes had completely diluted, he looked like a mad man.

_Lucy?_

_No... it couldn't be._

_It had to be._

I was ready to spit a few harsh words myself at this point, but Baz beat me to the chase.

He scoffed, “And look where that left you...” I could hear his heart breaking, “It wasn't part of the prophecy for the Chosen One to die...”

The Mage finally sat up and looked Baz dead in the eyes, “My dear boy, all stories with heroes contains some tragedy and form of death. I actually think this ending is quite beautiful. Ironic, even. You were actually supposed to be the one to die...”

There was a heartbeat of a moment before something broke within Baz, as I had to grab him again and hold him back from tearing into the Mage.

“ _You did that?”_ Baz yelled, shaking from head to toe.

The Mage sarcastically grunted, “Never let numpties do your dirty work.”

“Baz, what the Hell is he talking about?” I asked, suddenly growing worried.

But Baz wasn't listening, his breathing was heavy and his hands were balled into fists. His teeth were practically slicing his own gums...

The Mage let out a dry hum, breaking the silence. “But no matter, the Humdrum is indeed dead, and so is Simon. The prophecy has been successfully fulfilled–”

“You call _that –”_ I gestured at Simon's lifeless body with Baz's wand, “a _success?”_

The Mage looked straight at me. His gaze was troubling, disturbing. I never would have thought I would see such a look in my life coming from the Mage; he opened his mouth and a startling fit of laughter erupted from his throat. Bloody and weak, the man laid back down on the ground and continued to laugh himself mad.

I've never felt so helpless and lonely in my life.

Simon Snow, the Chosen One, died a pointless death.

I suppose at some point in my weakness, I had let go of Baz, and soon, the Mage's voice went from laughter to garbled screams of pain... but they faded away just as quick as they came.

There were more tears. There was more blood. There was more howling. There was more grief. There was more heartache.

I walked over and knelt down with Baz, who was shaking violently and vehemently screaming his heart out in such agony over the Mage's dead body. I leaned into him and embraced him. I suppose we were both in our own worlds because I didn't question why he was so upset, and he didn't question why I was bloody hugging him.

The floor was painted in red. Simon was painted in red. Ebb was painted in red. The Mage was painted in red. Baz was painted in red. My hands were painted in red.

Baz clutched his heart as his voice died into pained whimpers, as if his lungs had finally given out. He bowed, his forehand lying on the ground. His body continued to tremble, the boy could barely catch a breath. Choked sobs clogged in his throat as tears fell from his eyes as if they would never cease.

He looked so... _broken._ It was enough to make another fresh layer of tears fall from my eyes as well. I began to openly sob along with Baz.

“ _Simon...”_ I heard him wail under his breath, _“I'm sorry... Simon, I'm so, so sorry. I love you, I love you, I love you...”_

So many things were happening that I never thought would ever occur.

Nothing made sense.

* * *

I woke up to the sound of my mother's voice.

I don't remember falling asleep, or much of anything shortly after that.

Ultimately, Baz was not to blame for the Mage's death.

When my mother and Premal arrived, Baz refused to speak (or was utterly unable to). So, I had told my mum that we had arrived to find the Mage brutally attacking Simon whilst Ebb was already dead at the scene. Baz attacked out of self-defense once the Mage had tried to kill us as well. Oh yes, and the Humdrum was dead (I had to hold myself back from snorting, I'd rather deal with a hundred Humdrums over this...)

I've never been a very good liar, even at the best of times, but I suppose the bloody, good-for-nothing Heavens decided to finally grace us with their gifts.

Luckily, I managed another lie to slip by my lips, for when my mum had asked me if we knew anything of the Mage's motives, I only shook my head, staring down at my shoes to hide the truth.

I think that secret is something that should be buried along with Simon. The world of mages doesn't deserve to know what transpired here; none of them have the right.

Everything kinda just _happened_ after that.

Breaking news: The Mage was dead, found guilty of viciously murdering Watford's goatherd and the Chosen One. Humdrum was dead.

Close book, end of story.

I couldn't go back to Watford. I just couldn't. I'm glad, for once as well, that my mum had understood my conditions and let me off the hook. I was free... or, at least as free as a caged bird can be once they've been released into the wild.

Baz's parents had moved to Oxford and wanted Baz to complete his eighth year before shipping off with them.

According to Baz, they were off their damn fucking rocker.

Baz never wanted to go back to Watford, either. And who, besides his dimwitted parents, could blame him? He also didn't want to move in with them either. I suppose he didn't want much to do with magick after everything. What can I say besides the same thing?

I just wanted to take a break from magick, just the thought of it made me sick to my stomach. But I couldn't just sit around and do nothing, or else the thoughts and memories would creep in. I had to carry on, somehow. I guess that's why I decided to attend Normal school. I offered Baz to join me on a flat I was renting out, which he accepted in a rather apathetic tone. His melancholy state didn't budge, even a few weeks after the incident.

I've been meaning to ask why he's been so upset about that, but clearly now is not the time.

Once we both get settled in, I will have a talk with him.

What could that bugger be on about?

It couldn't be about Simon, could it?

No, I _can't_ go there.

I just have to carry on without him.

* * *

**BAZ**

 

There was a funeral for the Mage and Snow. Many mages from all over arrived for the Mage of all Mage's burial, whom of which was buried on the top floor of the Weeping Tower. Bunce and I made the call that Snow was to be buried in the forest. Not in Watford, but not out of magick's reach. Only the Bunce and Welbelove family attended Snow's.

I didn't go.

I accompanied the Bunce girl away from the magickal world and into the Normal one and decided to stay in the flat that she had rented out near her university.

Excuse me, both of our universities. We were both attending normal schools.

I had told her I would enroll.

However, I had no intention of going to school.

I had no intention of doing much of anything, to be honest.

I did at one point. I truly did. I was interested in enrolling myself into the London School of Economics and Science. I would be quite good at that sort of stuff, actually.

Alas, my motivation has left me.

Many things have left me.

I feel so empty. So bare. So _numb._

Sun turned to moon. Days drifted into weeks. My mind slipped in and out of consciousness at whatever time it desired. Bunce's worried glances only grew louder.

I was caught in a purgatory, a limbo. My mind was in a constant daze of confusion. I think I recall Bunce saying that I was simply in shock and it would wane off after a while.

It was not my intention to avoid human contact for those many weeks. As the summer drawled on, I aided in moving Bunce's things into our flat and she helped me in return. I suppose had not ushered more than a few words in that long duration of time.

Once we were settled, it was apparent to me that Bunce despised being cooped indoors all day long. I could strongly beg to differ. At times, I'd catch her staring at me. It didn't matter. I think she asked me if I wanted to join her on a few of her escapades throughout the season, but I merely waved her off. I never meant it as to push her away or hurt her feelings, but I found myself falling close to solitude and finding sanctuary in a dull and mundane environment.

It was almost peaceful after everything that has happened...

_Almost._

* * *

**PENELOPE**

 

Summer dripped on and was beginning to dry out. Fall was approaching, which meant that school was beginning again.

I was grateful for my family helping me after the incident. They were incredibly supportive of me and were willing to listen to me weep and sob for weeks at a time. It hurt like all Hell. It stung and it ached. I never really had anyone close to me die before, and Simon's death was no exception. It was as if a piece of me had been forcefully ripped out, leaving a gashing wound. We had been the best of friends for almost eight years. We told each other everything, we were basically two heads of one coin. I knew that boy like I knew my own mind. He was my family.

If you have never experienced such a tragedy before, then you cannot possibly fathom what it feels like.

Although, I knew that with care, my suffering would heal. I understood that, but it could never be truly replaced and fixed. The reminder will be scorched into my very soul for the rest of my days... and I was okay with that. I didn't want to forget the memories I shared with Simon Snow. What hurt the most was knowing that Simon was never going to come back; I would never get to gorge myself at lunch with him, fight monsters and villains, bitch about room mates, or share a laugh with him ever again. I would never see his face–his eyes that were so alight with life–ever again.

This pain would help me honor him, as it does with most people. However, I refused to let it drag me down with him, but not a day goes by that I don't miss that git.

Simon Snow left a legacy that I would cherish for the rest of my days.

By the time summer was nearly over, I did feel better and I found that I would be okay without him. Undeniably, I still found myself shedding tears in my sleep and trying not to fall into a pit of grief and sorrow day in and out. To this day, I can still vividly remember Simon's body: For the first time ever, it was cold and still. His irises that burned like the pits of Hell had turned to stone. His wings had flayed uselessly to his sides, like a fallen angel. The way it sounds now seems rather poetic.

But I am no poet, I'm just a teenage girl who is striving to move on, and is succeeding in doing so.

Unfortunately, I cannot say the same thing for Baz.

For almost the entire summer, without missing a beat, Baz had drawn within himself. He had shut down completely. His gaze was glossy and he seemed to be somewhere else all the time. I've never seen the great Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch hit such a low. The vampire who was always so composed and so well-spoken was finally brought down to his knees, and now he just seemed like a lost little boy who can't find his way out of a forest. It was almost pathetic, but it pained me to see him like that. During the night, he would wake up after a horrid nightmare (something I could relate to) and try to muffle his sobs and whimpers into a pillow and pray that I didn't hear or see him... but I would walk into his room and silence him peacefully using my magick.

I saw him, I heard him.

I didn't know what was wrong with him. I tried reaching out to him but he only had enough energy to tell me to go away. A few times, I was _so, so very, very_ close to shouting at him, _begging_ him to tell me what was wrong, but one look into his ashen eyes and I went weak. I was just so mad at him for acting so saddened by the ordeal when Simon was his sworn enemy. I almost expected Baz to jump for joy upon seeing Simon's dead body. He didn't deserve to be this sad. Why was his death affecting him more than me? Why at all?

Nevertheless, for the first time in my life, I found myself pitying and worrying over the great Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch.

For Simon's sake, I silently vowed that I would look after Baz.

I didn't know why this was happening to Baz at the extent that it was, but I knew what was happening to him. The five gods of grief were not to be foiled with. Baz had to be careful. I would look after him... but... it was a scary path he was venturing down. A necessary one considering the circumstances, but one that a person cannot venture alone. I hoped that I could lead Baz down the right path, and not get lost with him.

_Denial_ was a bliss and was not to be toyed with or taken lightly.

The anger that was to follow was going to crash into him like the sun and burn him alive.

* * *

**BAZ**

 

Who said you could leave, fucker?

We were supposed to be together forever. After we defeated the Humdrum, we were supposed to live together and love each other unconditionally. You'd call me darling, and I would bake you sour cherry scones (I didn't know how to bake a damn single thing, but for fuck's sake, I'd learn for Simon Snow). We'd have wild sex and kiss each other when we woke up every morning. We'd say “I love you” everyday. We were supposed to fight each other, too. You know, all that fucking cliched shit that couples do.

We were supposed to do all those things, and so much more.

I wanted that so bad... and you had to go off and get yourself killed.

And you fucking left without saying goodbye. You let an old man choke you to death. You really were the worst Chosen One ever. You had to go to the Mage to seek help because you were the fucking hero, weren't you? The mister goody-two-shoes... well, look where that left you! Crowley, if you were alive right now I would tear into your flesh until I was bathed in your blood. I'd kill you and you would probably kill me, like we were always destined to do. You're so weak and selfish, how did I ever grow fond of you?

It was all so _stupid._

It was all so _unfair._

I remember on one particular night when I had gone out to hunt – I can't remember exactly where I went – I had let myself go completely rabid. I cussed and howled as loud as my lungs would let me and I ripped through animals and drained them with no remorse. I laid waste to anything that was in my path. I ran myself exhausted all night. At one point, I think I returned back to civilization and found myself on a bridge, overlooking a river. I broke down completely in utter rage; I screamed and spat until my throat felt raw. I passed out on that bridge until I woke up to a stinging sunrise and at least twenty-five notifications from Bunce. I sulked my way back to the flat to find that Bunce was asleep on the couch, a cold cup of tea resting atop the coffee table.

I felt better _(destroyed)_ after that night.

I forgot what it felt like to be awake _(hurting)_ again.

I had finally found the energy to stop brooding about in my limbo land; all fueled by my anger for Simon Snow. I riled through books and went out on hunts just for the thrill of it. Whenever that foolish Bunce girl would try to reach out to me, I bit back and snarled, sneering and scowling in her direction. Anyways, what is up with Penelope? How is she okay with Simon's death? She was his fucking BFF, shouldn't she just be as upset as I am? (Of course not, she's a Bunce, doing-whatever-is-right is her middle name.)

When my anger was just too much for me to bear, I would find myself smashing things. I had already destroyed my violin to smithereens. I didn't use my wand to control my magick anymore, I had enough at my fingertips to use it from just my mind. Objects would start flinging themselves from where they stood; my magick was alight, slithering into my surroundings and triggering whenever the worst of thoughts would dare cross my mind.

In a sense, I loved this new found power. I relished in being furious, seething, loathsome and spiteful again towards Snow. I was constantly livid, my body quaked in disgust at the mere thought of the Chosen One. I felt like myself again, miserable. That's really all I wanted. It's what kept me alive...

_(You stole my heart Simon Snow, and I want it back._

_You took away my life Simon Snow, and everything is your fault.)_

* * *

**PENELOPE**

 

And there it was, in all its glory, _anger._

I could feel it radiate off of him, like an aura of death and destruction.

And the worst part was that I didn't know how to comfort him.

It wasn't like Baz was much of a cuddle buddy to begin with. If trying to get close to him was like approaching a pit of hungry snakes, now it was like trying to go hug a cage full of hungry snakes, lions, and other things of the sort. In other words, it was neigh impossible to get close to him. I grew desperate and tried talking to him, but he would only snarl and bare his fangs at me; he stubbornly refused to say a damn thing.

More frequent then not, I would come home to find objects destroyed and smashed upon the floor. Cups and plates were shattered, flung and discarded across the kitchen. The sofas and chairs were completely rooted up and the stuffing had been ripped to shreds. Furniture had been crushed and broken in two... I could speculate that this was done by brute force rather than magick, however.

My mum had given me a magickal bracelet in turn for my ring. It was an elegant brace with a silver lining to it and a dazzling sapphire squeezed next to a sparkling ruby. It was okay, I guess. (I actually have a small scar on my finger from where my ring exploded, a _painful_ reminder, if you will.) I tried not to use it, but it was the only thing that saved me from having to walk through IKEA's labyrinth and spend a fortune on more furniture and accessories.

I vividly remember the day when I found Baz's violin destroyed in his bedroom. (I've never heard him play, but I could dream that Baz was an excellent player.) The poor, inanimate thing looked like it was in pain. The polished wood was splintered and raw, the strings were flayed and tortured. The bow lay torn up and snapped in half next to the instrument. It looked as if it had been stomped on as if it were a pesky insect. I could almost hear the sweet yet sorrowful music ooze from the piece still...

This was the first time I had cried again in a while.

I repaired it, of course, only to find it broken again the next day. And the next, and the next one to follow. So, the fourth time it happened, I fixed it again and hid it away. Somewhere Baz wouldn't find it for now.

How I wish I could say that was all.

Baz was still tormented by night horrors. I used spells on him when I heard him muffling Simon's name in his sleep and sobbing into his covers in the middle of the night, but it was never enough.

I tried convincing myself that this was normal and that this process was something Baz had to figure out when the time was right, but just watching him made me hurt. I tried finding solace in my family once more regarding Baz, but they didn't want to have much to do with him, I suppose they still didn't like him. That's my fault, really...

As of late, he began spending his days outside of the flat. At first, I panicked. I used more magick than I care to admit to track him. I always found him, albeit through the strangest of ways (through an animal's eyes, or literally stalking the shit out of that fucker; on foot or if he had enough gumption to bring his phone).

At least he always came back home.

But one night he didn't.

And I couldn't find him.

I searched for hours but turned up with nothing. It was well past midnight when I gave up, exhausted and depleted of my magick. I brewed myself a cup of tea and got myself comfortable at the couch, fully prepared to scold him properly once he came sauntering back in through that door. Tonight would be the night I would get to the bottom of this.

I almost pulled an all-nighter, I was surprised that I didn't manage to succeed to, but I'm afraid I had used too much magick to try to track Baz down, because once I had come back to my senses, Baz had already returned, as disheveled and upset as ever.

I felt completely and utterly hopeless. I wanted to help, but I didn't know how. Not like Baz would even let me. He didn't sleep, he didn't eat. He was growing more gaunt with every step and haggard breath he took. His cries and whimpers will haunt me for the rest of my days. I hated seeing him like this day in and day out, and I prayed to the gods that someone was looking out for him and would let the poor boy be free from his misery.

_Simon? Baz needs you. I don't know why, I don't know if I ever will, but please... save him._

* * *

**BAZ**

 

The memories that bombard my head ever since the tragedy is driving me insane.

I can't sleep, I binge on hunting for blood and starve myself of actual food _(I guess it really is anorexia, you were right, Snow)_. I have nothing better to do anymore. The pain of loosing Simon is physical. It squeezes my heart until I have to literally massage my chest for comfort. My limbs dangle here and there, moving without a purpose. I live my days not entirely awake nor asleep. Unwillingly, my anger was subsiding, leaving me with nothing but the pain and misery of Snow's absence.

All I want is for Simon Snow to be in my arms where no one could hurt him. Where I could say “I love you” and “I'm sorry.”

The worst part is the tears.

They come in waves, but they never stopped.

Many nights, I wake up to find a vacant, cold place next to my bed where Simon should be laying. The moon was supposed to dance across his bare skin and make his freckles and moles glisten like the stars. His auburn, quaffed hair was supposed to fall in front of his face, and I would pin it back and kiss him.

I want that more than anything.

I spent years fantasizing about Simon Snow, and I came so close to having those dreams become reality. And then that chance was stolen from me... but my wishes and fantasies still haunt me.

I would do anything to just make it all stop.

I would do anything to bring Simon Snow back.

At this point, I would be fine if I traded my love for Snow if he would just grace this Earth once more. If he could just live his life like he was supposed to... even if I wasn't in it. I would be fine with that. I just wanted to know that he was out there, safe and happy. Alive like the sun, smiling and making a fucking fool of himself. I wouldn't care if he decided to live in the magickal world and hook up with Agatha or some other pretty dame, but I just wanted to see him again...

But he wasn't. He's never coming back. And I begin to cry all over again.

I think I go bat-shit crazy now.

School has started and Bunce and I go to different universities (thank Crowley). I'm supposed to be in class, but I spend my days at the library, searching through ancient, magickal catalogs and articles on _anything_ about resurrection and death. What's beyond the Veil, how to bring someone back, _anything._

My sleepless or nightmare-induced nights continue, as well as my new eating disorder. Now, I find myself pulling at my hair and cutting my skin. Sometimes, the memories and sick fantasies make tremors rush my body. My skin crawls for relief and my blood pulses beneath my sunken flesh.

To be honest, the self-harm doesn't help as much as I think it's supposed to. The cuts I create with my wand do sting, I can focus on the pain for just a brief moment, but it never lasts. It's not fulfilling. It's not satisfying. This is no escape. This is no saving grace...

Yet, I find myself still doing it.

I guess I like being in control.

And because I'm so twisted, sometimes I lick my own blood off my own arms. It's disgusting, both theoretically and it tastes absolutely nasty, but I don't really give a flying fuck anymore.

So, here I am.

Self-harm, eating disorder, sleep disorder. I'm driving myself into a pit and I grow frustrated each day as I cannot find a damn thing about how to bring back my love...

My life.

Is this God's punishment for treating Snow like a dick all those years?

I laugh at this concept.

All I want is Simon Snow. My heart, mind, soul and body will not rest until I have him.

I'm a fucking tragedy.

I've crashed into the sun and now I'm burning.

I will kill myself trying to get to him.

And maybe that's what it takes.

* * *

**PENELOPE**

 

I fear for Baz's life.

He's loosing it.

_I'm_ loosing it watching _him_ loose it.

He can't _seriously_ believe that I don't notice that he doesn't sleep or eat. He can't seriously think that I don't know about him cutting himself and that he's been skipping out on school. Let's just say he's not very subtle with these things. I would think he would be, but he's not being subtle in the least bit. I fucking hear his cries and screams at night from his bedroom, Hell, I'm the one who has to walk in there and help ease those vile night horrors away. Since he doesn't get himself anything to eat, I leave stuff for him, which never gets eaten, of course. He never brings back school books or homework, instead, it's magick books and shit, which he leaves lying lazily around the flat. We don't share a bathroom, but in my suspicion, I checked his stuff (I'm getting scared, my actions are justifiable) and his bathroom is speckled in blood.

It's insanity, and he legitimately knows that... but he's not reaching out for help.

To be honest, I think that's the scary part, he doesn't care. He doesn't care who sees him like this. He doesn't even think twice about how this is affecting other people... he doesn't even notice how this is affecting _me._ It's not that I believe I have a right to think that Baz should act a certain way just because of me, but he needs to snap out of it, for his own benefit. I've given him the space he clearly wants. Every time I have tried to help him, he's pushed me away, and I think we're both too emotionally broken to start fighting about it, let alone bring the _subject_ up. I don't even know _how_ to bring it all up, how do I act? Should I be firm and tough, or be soft and pliant?

But it doesn't matter. Seeing him still like this, it makes me nauseous with regret and guilt.

I've been too scared to admit to myself that I'm afraid to confront him. I've been healing and moving on from the incident and I don't want to go back. I don't want to end up wherever Baz is.

Now I feel like screaming, because I've let him get this far.

I've been a selfish bitch.

What kind of a friend am I?

That's it. No more. I can't stand to see Baz like this. I can't sit by and not do anything. He needs help. _My_ help.

_Simon, I'm sorry. I'll fix this. Don't you worry, I'll make things right._

* * *

**BAZ**

 

It's been months since this wretched, cursed year began. It's been months since the incident had occurred. It's been months since summer ended. It's been months since my disorders began. It's been months since I've felt anything close to content.

I suspect those months will turn to years, eventually. They say that grief fades away with time and that things get better, but it really doesn't fucking feel like it.

I've felt overwhelming, sheer numbness, anger, betrayal, self-loathing... but nothing topped this.

This unending pit of _sadness_ and _darkness._

I always scowled at how teenagers these days glorified the term depression and used it as a fashion statement. I have a hard time believing what I have is called depression, I feel like I'm dying.

Someone tell me, how am I supposed to live _forever_ knowing that the love of my life is _dead?_ Soon, Bunce will be dead too. So will my family. Tell me, how am I to live with myself with the knowledge that I will never see my loved ones again because I'm an immortal fucking vampire?

I will have nothing to live for.

I don't have anything to live for as it is now.

Whenever I slump out of bed, whether I stayed up all night or I suffered through an anguishing night of torturous nightmares, all I feel is this weight dragging me down. My heart clenches in pain. I desperately claw at other thoughts, but nothing works. Tears conjure in my eyes against all my willpower, and they fall with no remorse. Each breath I take is labored. I'm suddenly tired and physically ill. I'm vomiting, cutting more, and now I'm taking whatever medication is in the pantry because I want it to _stop._

I feel so _lost_. I don't want to see or hear anymore. I can't exist and breathe here. I'm suffocating, choking, dying in my grief. Nothing is working. I can't bring myself to do something else, to smile, or to even act like a pompous dick anymore. I can't even function right anymore. I don't even know what to do; scream, cry? I've done that already. My thoughts are cluttered and they don't give me a moment's rest. They thrash about in my head and make themselves known.

_Why am I here? Why aren't I dead? I want to die. Nothing is worse than this. There is no escape. Bunce has stopped talking to you, she's probably afraid of you now. Your own family doesn't bother to reach out to you. It hurts. It fucking hurts. Days are so long. What do I do? I can't do anything. I'm a fucking vampire. I'm a mess, a tragic mess. I need to go. This needs to stop. Please, I'll do anything. Help me, someone, help me. I need help. Just stopSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP-_

I. Can't. Stop.

I weep on my bed and twist about as the memories shriek at me inside my skull.

I can't escape my own mind.

I'm shaking, sweating, crying, screaming.

That's it. I can't stand it anymore. I can't breathe, everything hurts so bad. I can't live like this anymore. I've tried to think of a way out, I've tried to get better, haven't I? But it's not working, I'm weak and powerless. You've won, you've all won. I give up. I don't want it to be this way, but this is the only way things can get better. I know suicide is selfish and that I will be burdening my loved ones by leaving, but I've reached such a low that if they could ever understand what I feel... they wouldn't blame me for choosing to take my life.

I'm sorry, I really truly am.

But I think Bunce and my family will be okay without me.

This is a choice.

At least this way, I can be with Simon again.

* * *

**PENELOPE**

 

Baz has been awfully calm.

Too calm.

Almost content.

It's not right.

He's just suddenly acting better.

He goes to bed before I can get a word in, and I decide that I will talk to him in the morning.

I wake up when my alarm goes off. Apparently, Baz didn't have a nightmare or didn't cry all night.

I go make myself some breakfast, and Baz sits with me and decides to eat.

I hesitate, which allows enough time for Baz to leave the kitchen with a small smile tossed in my direction.

A riptide of relief and pride tingles my heart, but then a tsunami of doubt comes crashing down as I get ready to go to school.

It's not uncommon in the least bit that I leave the flat before Baz.

But as I begin to walk, my steps come to an abrupt halt.

Uneasiness takes over all my senses as I turn around and run back to the flat, calling out Baz's name and receiving odd stares from passerby's.

As I burst into the flat, and call his name, even though I don't expect him to answer.

I make a mad dash towards his bedroom to find everything neat and organized.

Panic rises to my throat.

I take a lucky glance towards his bathroom to find the door creaked just a tad open and the light on.

I stretch out my arm and cast an **“Open Sesame!”** before charging into the room.

Before I know it, my body is reacting quicker than my mind and I'm fighting Baz for his wand and trying to put out the flames that have ignited the shower curtain.

I'm screaming at him to stop, because I don't want to hurt him, but his fangs are out and he is blind, so I bare my wrist and cast the spell that my mother invented. Baz is sent reeling backwards and into the tub as I snatch his wand and break it in half. I douse the flames, but not before the overhead emergency water sprinkler turns on.

Then we're both crying.

“God dammit, Baz!” I choke out.

“Fuck off, Bunce.” Baz sniffs.

“What are you gonna do?” I huff, testing him.

“Get out! I will hurt you!” Baz yells, his fangs protruding out now more than ever.

“No, you won't.” I say flatly, because I know (and he knows) that he doesn't have the mental and magickal strength to do it.

Baz backs down and breaks, returning back to trying to muffle his sobs. He starts shaking and his face grows red with humiliation. He sinks into the tub and curls into himself, his face, tears and muffled sobs hidden away behind his hands. His fingers are raking into his skin and it really looks like he's trying to fold into himself.

I sigh and get in the tub with him, not bothering to turn off the water that's pouring down on us both.

“Baz, talk to me.” I demand in a calm tone.

I think Baz is truly broken because he doesn't try to deny or get out of anything, he only admits.

“I loved him, okay? I loved Simon Snow! I've had a crush on him ever since the Crucible put us together.”

For some reason, this is a shock to me. It was blatantly obvious, maybe I just didn't consider it being an option.

But I believe him.

It takes me a moment to respond, but I do, “Did he know that?”

Baz nodded and speaks quietly, “Yeah, actually. That's why he left you and Agatha during Christmas and came back to our manor.”

I inhale deeply as I recall that moment when Simon decided to turn back that day, I should have known. I shift uncomfortably in the tub, my wet clothes aren't helping, and I don't know what to say to my best friend's arch nemesis who was actually his boyfriend and now I'm sitting in a tub with him and we're wet and the shower curtain in ruined and he's crying and I'm crying because he almost tried to kill himself and–

I reach over and cradle Baz in my arms. He whines and recoils to my touch at first, but he ends up falling apart instead. He keeps repeating “I'm sorry” and I say “It's okay,” even though I have no idea if he's apologizing to me or Simon.

I say, “Simon wouldn't want this for you.”

“It's doesn't matter what Snow wants, he's fucking dead.” He replies bitterly.

I snort, “He probably heard that. There's an afterlife, remember?”

Baz groans, “Snow can curse and snarl at me from beyond the veil all he wants, but it doesn't change the fact that he's never coming back.”

I bite my tongue; he's right.

“But you can't throw your life away like this.”

“ _Why not?”_

“You have to move on.”

“ _I can't.”_

“You have to try and you will!”

“ _How do you know?”_

“I'll help you.”

“Bunce,” Baz snaps, pushing me away, “do you know that I will live forever?”

I purse my lips and nod, unsure of where he was taking this conversation.

“Are you aware that I will never see Snow beyond the Veil because of that?”

I found myself speechless once more; he was right.

“I _loved_ him _so_ much, Penny,” Baz continues, his voice stutters when he says my name, “I know I fucked my chance up so bad, but you will never understand my love I have for him...”

I offer a smile, “But Baz, you can _live_ and have new _experiences_ each day. You will find _new_ friends and find _other_ things to do. _Eventually,_ you will move on from your loved ones. You will _adapt_ and _evolve._ What you're feeling is _natural_...”

I try to keep smiling, but I feel my heart pounding as I can now only see through Baz's perspective. If he truly loved Simon as much as it seems, he will _never_ move on from that, as long as he lives. He will have to wake up every day knowing that while he lives, he will never share another moment with his loved ones ever again.

But I realize that many normal people have to go through this. At least those who do not believe in the afterlife. So, if they can do it, so can Baz. I mean, shit, I've had to go through it.

“I hate being a vampire.” Baz abruptly says.

“Come again?”

“I don't want to be a vampire, Penny. I don't want to be a vampire, and I want to be with Simon... you can't _imagine_ how badly I want this. Why is that a bad thing? This is my decision, why can't I decide this for myself? If I were human, I'd just die anyways...”

I fumble with my hands, wringing them tightly (it's a habit I do on the rare occasion I find myself stuck in a corner with no way out).

“So, why are you stopping me?”

I heave, “You're right, Baz. I can't stop you.” I look at his broken, discarded wand on the bathroom floor. He'll find another way... “But I don't want you to do this. What will your family say when they find out you've killed yourself?”

“They'll die too.” Baz mumbles.

I ruffle with an edge of anger.

“And what about me, Baz? Huh? Am I the one that's going to have to find your body?”

Baz grinds his teeth, “That may be the case, _Bunce_ –”

I slap him.

I break down crying.

My damns overflow and crack, my doubts and vileness towards the situation unleashing itself on Baz.

And now I'm yelling at the top of my lungs again.

“How can you be so selfish? Have you ever cared to think what Simon's death did to me? We were like siblings, you two were arch nemesis's, and you dare call him your lover? You don't deserve him! How can you say that you loved him? Now you think you deserve to check out just to be with him? You're going to leave me here on my own like this? Think of you're family, you arrogant son of a bitch!”

“Of course I've thought about my family! And I'm sorry that I didn't think about what poor Penelope Bunce was going through, you seem perfectly fine to me! You're just so perfect, aren't you? Everything has to revolve around your observations and what you think is right! Well, for your information, I loved Simon and I'm so fucking sorry that it didn't seem like that to you!”

Baz doesn't stop, “Oh, and for the record: _Simon loved me back._ For fuck's sake, he _kissed_ me _first!_ I was ready to walk out and he saved my sorry ass so that I could be with him and help him through whatever business we were dealing with... and look where that got us? I couldn't save him in the end, what good is there for me to stay here?”

Baz catches his breath as he blinks away tears, “Crowley, Penny... this is all my fault.”

“No, it's not.” I say as sincerely as possible, because it's true. “Bad things happen to good people. That's life, and life's unfair. It's not your fault, it's not my fault.”

Baz punches the tub. “That doesn't solve my problem!”

I swear, if he doesn't kill himself, I'll kill him. “Suicide isn't the fucking answer!”

“Fuck off, Bunce!”

“You're not thinking straight! You're consumed by rage and you're just looking for an easy way out from the pain... well guess what, honey? There is no easy way out, and I've had to come to terms with it. It's not easy, but you have to do it.”

“What's my death going to cost you?” Baz asks suddenly, “You'll move on, find new friends and new experiences... and you know what's the fucking kicker? You'll get to see me again soon enough!”

“I don't want you to die, Baz!”

“Now who's being selfish?”

I tug on my hair and take a shaky, deep breath. The air passing through my valves burns because of my wretched screaming. I take a mental step back.

“Look, I don't think suicide is selfish.”

Now it's Baz's turn to be speechless.

“You've hit such a dark and low point where nothing else matters. Ending it all has become a choice. And you're right, I will never understand how you feel. I know that much. But Merlin, Baz, please don't do this... at least, not right now. No spell in existence will assure me that you won't go killing yourself when I'm gone, but please... stay with me for now.”

“You don't know it, but that's asking a lot of me.”

I don't know if it really is asking too much of him, because I know Baz can do better.

“Just live so you get to see your nieces and nephews, okay?” I am tempted to even hint at the fact that perhaps Baz will one day have kids, but honestly, I don't think he ever will.

Baz's eyes soften, and I know I've hit a delicate spot. I know he really cares for his sisters, among a plethora of other things. He just needs to remember that people still care for him and he still cares for them; he just needs help and all the support he can get right now. He has reasons to live, he just needs to know that.

After a good few minutes, Baz collects himself and gives me a promising nod.

Now I feel like happy crying, and I do. “Okay.” I say, a smile breaking out across my face. “Now can we get out of this tub so I can get dry?”

Baz let's out a small chuckle and nods again...

And I believe that everything will work out.

* * *

**BAZ**

 

_All my friends tell me I should move on_

_I'm lying in the ocean, singing your song_

 

It's been a century, and I'm still here.

I've aged to my prime, but I'm no man.

Death has finally taken my family; my beloved father, mother, aunt, and sisters. My nieces and nephews are well into their adulthood now and are having children of their own.

Death has even taken the invincible Penelope Bunce. (That woman was so stubborn, I didn't even know that Death itself could stop her.) Being a powerful mage, she aged well past many people, even her own husband, but she was still human. Her kids, who are no longer kids, are now venturing into retirement.

Time has changed many things, but it hasn't changed the fact that I'm still by myself.

Bunce always tried to convince me that one day, maybe I would meet another soulmate. I think deep down she knew she was wrong. My parents, especially my father, wished for me to carry out the pure Pitch bloodline, but I couldn't. I felt sorry and guilty for not being able to grant their wish, I truly am, but I couldn't do it.

I've accomplished many things in my long life: I've attended weddings and birthdays (too many to count by now), I've learned how to play the piano, I've traveled the world and job-hopped as many times as I pleased, and I enjoy my spare time reading books that I have collected over the years.

These were little milestones and goals I (along with Bunce's two-cents) set for myself over the course of my lifetime. Anything to keep my body and mind still going.

But no matter what I did or where I went, I was never able to free myself from the shackle's of my love for Simon Snow... I guess this was the one step I couldn't conquer: _acceptance._

But I'm okay with that.

_Loving you forever, can't be wrong_

_Even though you're not here, won't move on_

 

During the earlier years, Bunce signed me up to go to one of those magickal psychologists. It was good to get some sort of frustration out in a non-violent and bloody way, but it didn't heal me. One of the healing mechanisms the psychologist offered was to go back to Watford during the Visiting season.

I gave a prompt “fuck you” towards the psychologist before stomping out of the building.

But I ended up going.

I bothered myself enough to actually get in my car and drive to Watford. I made it to the bloody gates... but I never stepped through them. I camped out in my car for three days in a row, too fearful to even look at the place.

This is where the love of my life had died, and just beyond the moat was the forest where Snow was buried.

If I saw Snow again, I would shatter right on the spot; I didn't want to have to leave him again. So, I went back home and never went back (to Watford and the psychologist).

 

_There's no remedy for melody_

_You're face is like a memory, it won't leave my head_

 

I was there for Bunce and my family, and now they're gone.

Dad's with mom... and Bunce is with Simon.

I miss Simon. I miss him so much. I thought I could move on from him, but I never could.

There is nothing stopping me now.

I like to think that this is now the only right option.

This is now okay for me to do. There's nothing wrong by doing this. I can hear them ushering for me to do it.

And there's no big climax.

I don't need to take a swig of scotch, one last hunt for blood, or write a sob note. Nobody is going to notice that I'm gone. I have no friends nor family left, but I'll be with them soon.

And I'm happy and excited for the first time in a very long while.

 

_You're soul is hunting me and telling me that everything is fine_

_But I wish I was dead_

_(Dead like you)_

 

The hardest part is actually deciding how to go.

I choose not to use magick to go, even though I am equipped to do so. (I'll leave that honor to my mother.)

I go on a walk to clear my head and get fresh ideas.

The idea pops into my head as I stare at it in the face.

The sun is just peeking over the horizon as I hoist myself upon the ridge of a bridge.

I fall into that water would mean certain death.

Good.

I have no last words or memories to recall and cherish before I tip.

I slightly wince as the sun breaks over the land and winks at me through the London landscapes.

A tear falls from my face as I can hear them whisper to me.

My family wishes to see me again, I hear them calling.

Penelope is cheering and yelling at me to get going.

And there's Simon... my love. He's waiting for me, he's still waiting for me so expectantly, after all these years. His passion is beaming from the sunlight that touches my skin.

_Baz,_ it sings, _Come... I'm here. I'm here my darling... my love. Come see me, I miss you._

I laugh as the sunlight embraces me and cradles me in it's embrace. It scoops me off my feet and sends me falling.

 

_Every time I close my eyes_

_It's like a dark paradise_

_No one compares to you_

_I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side_

 

I feel like I'm flying.

I'm free.

And I see him.

I see Simon Snow running towards me, clumsily tripping over his wings and tail. His gorgeous hair is falling in front of his shimmering eyes and his grin makes the stars look dull in comparison.

I scream in agony as I finally hug Simon. Before I know it, we're kissing. His mouth tastes like cherries and my heart swells with a love that I haven't felt since I was in Watford. I've completely forgotten what it's like to love... to _feel._ Our tears mix together as we continue to kiss.

I tell him how much I've missed him and how much I still love him.

We wipe each others eyes as he tells me how much he missed me while I was gone and how proud he is of me. He calls me darling and says how he loves me and how happy he was that I had finally returned to him. I've done everything right, he says.

 

_Everybody's rushing me, but I can feel you touching me_

_There's no relief, I see you in my dreams_

_Telling me I'm fine_

 

With one last kiss, Simon takes my hand and leads me through the Veil.

 

_It's like a dark paradise_

_No one compares to you_

 

Everything is okay now.

I can finally carry on.

 

_I don't wanna wake up from this tonight_

* * *

**THE END**

 


End file.
